


the key to success (is under the hat)

by wet_wussy



Category: Ratatouille (2007), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Drabble, Gen, Rat fic, linguini!jgy, the universe where jgy owes his success to a rat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wet_wussy/pseuds/wet_wussy
Summary: Jin Guangyao hadn’t achieved all he hadalone.orBehind every powerful man is a rat.(the ratatouille au exactly one (1) person asked for)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	the key to success (is under the hat)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softjohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softjohn/gifts).



The night had drawn quiet, finally. True peace would probably never settle on Carp Tower, where dishonourable proclivities had abounded for decades and would probably, under Jin Guangyao’s rule, not stop. Who was he to deny the plausible deniability of night to others, when he so enjoyed its uses?

The feast honouring his regency had wound down, Jin cultivators and guests alike content to drink away their sorrows and loss on the Carp Tower coffers. It was hardly a happy celebration, but he had what he wanted. He had bid goodnight to Xichen and Da- _ ge _ with minimal fussing or transparent smugness respectively and instructed the servants to douse the indisposed with water if they had failed to vacate the dining hall by morning.

Jin Guangyao had no more duties to tend to, no more heirs to dispose of (for now), no demonic patriarchs to worry over or arrogant, pathetic cultivators to play nice with. No need to worry over ruffled feathers or appearances. It had all, somehow, come together in the end, as he had been promised. _ Well,  _ he thought, _ one last more self-entitled creature to entertain after all. _ He pursed his lips in distaste. Just as quickly as the thought had come, a jerk of pain had him smoothing his face down into careful neutrality and quickening his pace down the corridors of the inner sanctum.

Arriving at his new rooms at last, he dismissed his attendants and slid the doors shut for some blessed privacy. Like a cut puppet, he groaned in relief against the doors. The sect leaders’ rooms were as expected, ostentatious and unbearably luxurious. Something Jin Guangyao felt he deserved, after all this thankless work. The only dark mark on the room was that it was once occupied by Jin Guangshan, but there was nothing for it. He had had the place sanitized three times at this point. Any more and he risked implying unsavoury things about his venerated elders.

Groaning again as another jerk of pain assaulted his head, Jin Guangyao roused himself from his slump against the door. Some days, he felt he would never become used to how high strung he now was. Being controlled as he was was not easy on his muscles, and the constant strain was starting to affect his stamina. A feral squeaking emitted from atop him, and he straightened more urgently, shuffling in the direction it pulled him.

On the tea table of the receiving area, one of the servants had left an exquisitely carved cherry wood box. Removing the lid with careful hands (some part of him, the part that he loathed, still wondered how many pints of blood he would pay if he scratched something so  _ priceless- _ ) revealed the surviving half of the Stygian Tiger Seal. Nestled in silk, it was deceptively crude, but when he reached to pick it up, it was so cold it almost felt as if it was burning his hands. He probably was not so accomplished in his cultivation to feel the resentful energy the way Da- _ ge  _ felt when he spoke of it, he thought bitterly. Still, it felt right, having this power in his hands at long last.

“Da- _ ge _ can complain and swing that butcher's knife of his all he likes, but at the end of the day it was  _ me _ who destroyed Wei Wuxian,” Jin Guangshao muttered, rubbing his fingers over the grooves. Then, with a yowl he yanked his fingers away, scrabbling at the chin strap of his  _ futao _ , a terrible hissing and spitting accompanied the sudden tearing pain in his scalp. With a fumble, the clip finally came undone and the  _ futao _ tumbled over the table, knocking off the cherry wood lid with a clatter and rolling under a chair. The  _ rat  _ clawed down his scalp once freed, down along his shoulder and arm and into the box where the Stygian Tiger Seal had fallen, spitting all the way. Jin Guangyao scowled, feeling warmth trickle along his neck. Blood or piss, it was hard to tell, but it had refrained from mauling his face today, at least.

_ The man ‘we’ destroyed, you mean _ the beast squeaked, nose twitching in that way that Jin Guangyao knew meant it was laughing at him, before turning to inspect its prize. Jin Guangyao stayed looking long enough to see it begin licking at where blood had crusted between the detailing before the disgust had him sweeping off to prepare for bed. (It had been piss, after all.)

When he returned, the beast had made itself at home on the bed. The Stygian Tiger Seal was securely held in its worm-like tail, and was being used as a pillow. To think, something that struck fear into the hearts of men like Da- _ ge _ had now joined the long list of glorified bed warmers in this suite.

_ We will need to find someone to harness its power.  _ It chittered at him.  _ It is stronger than I anticipated. _

“It would be best to keep this within the sect,” Jin Guangyao muttered “rogue cultivators are too flighty to be trusted.”

_ Ideally, yes. But Jin disciples suddenly becoming tainted with resentful energy is unideal as well. _ It squeaked,  _ We must progress carefully. Find one of your father's bastards, they will be bound to the sects favor just as you were. They are not in short supply, either.  _ It’s nose twitched again.

Jin Guangyao breathed out deeply, feeling that same  _ hated  _ something shake in shame. But just as quick as it came he buried it down. “As always, your advice is indispensable. I will start reaching out to his favored brothels with haste.” He said, “if there is nothing else I will retire.” He pushed down the instinctual bow, and lifted the corner of the bed spread. 

The beast hissed loudly at him, beady eyes aglow with hate.  _ This is my bed _ , it squeaked.

Jin Guangyao stood aghast. “Surely you don’t expect the  _ sect leader _ to sleep on the  _ floor? _ ”

_ Of course not. There's a daybed in the adjacent area _ . Its whiskers and nose twitched before dismissing him, curling back around the seal.

Jin Guangyao shook as he turned towards the indicated room. And he shook as he put out the candles, and he was still shaking when he laid out on the cramped little daybed, wishing unpleasant, venomous thoughts on that little  _ bastard. _

The wide expanse of the sect leaders bed, of the  _ Jin _ sect leaders bed, and all the power of its sect, all for one meager little  _ rat _ . The only positive, was perhaps that rats had been afoot in the sect leader's bed since Jin Guangshan’s time.

It did not comfort him as much as he would have liked.

**Author's Note:**

> _futao _* refers to the hat worn by Tang Dynasty scholars and officials I believe, which should be what JGY's funky hat is. lmk if im wrong.__
> 
> __The playlist for this fic is Le Festin on loop and every 7 iterations is interrupted with 'The Rats, We're the Rats'. I hope you are happy, yips._ _


End file.
